Author: Oke Iroegbu

Faded

Nothing compares to speeches made by the eyes When fine memories tumble into low faint sighs Now see our glamour fade before the waking morning With the old tree, where we played sitting and grinning Mourning the demise of a union which might not be Or which was but could not be totally seen

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First Words of P’Ville, SummerTown

When the Winter Witch got tired of the warmth Which the fine golden sun brought She decided to leave the sunny, pitiful city And with her she took all her trinkets and jewellery Then she would stare across the vast wild Oat fields And all she saw was melting ice and she always sighed In… Continue reading First Words of P’Ville, SummerTown

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The Messenger

Originally posted on Oke’s Musings: Poetry, People and Places:
Kokookoroko kokorokoro A greeting called from afar The children ran out excited As if the message was for them But then who knows? Heads up, listen attentively Komkom korookom Another beat rang out Pushing the mild hit Into the ears of even the heaviest village…

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Welcoming November, with Love

There is this month which gave good memories It brings hope, joy and consolation And expectations grow when the month arrives The moments are like mixed gold dusts Falling from eyes, distorted, unified, in-explainable A desire to see it come and go and so on… It tells of the way we have gone since the year… Continue reading Welcoming November, with Love

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Let us take a Walk

 Now let us take a walk through the pine forest Through the shed which the forest provides Through the pathway where the leaves form a cushion Through the place where the squirrels make an abode And the darkness of the shrubs a shed from the noon Come let us take a walk through the lands… Continue reading Let us take a Walk

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The Tree leaves fall

Permit me a sec before reading this piece. I am pained to see the world destroy green life, I feel the grieve of these wonderful creatures, I feel even worse knowing I might not be able to save all the trees from the cruelty of my own kind. You all know that the trees are… Continue reading The Tree leaves fall

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A muse: The Thunder and her nephew

When the thunder storm descends The clouds rumble with a quake, For the Earth and her companions She cuts up a powerful link Letting her much younger nephew Take a solid images of the quiet world Every other force goes on pause, on mute While the two siblings enjoy their ride Through the Earth, through… Continue reading A muse: The Thunder and her nephew

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Amuse: Listen

Listen, listen… For I am about to make a poem Of what you may ask? I do not know…

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Gods masterpiece, my inspiration

The clouds sing of Your Glory mighty One The wind surf the mild waters of the ocean Nature is just one of  Your Great masterpiece The Earth is Your masterpiece She spins up the space like a speck of dust Which fall with the others when it is time The snow melts down into the… Continue reading Gods masterpiece, my inspiration

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When we age…

Now when our face grow older And wrinkles come, Will you remember once this lively smile I wore? Will you remember how I made faces and winked at you? The ages came and went, the sun and her toil on us But will you remember the youth which we savored? When we walk faintly And… Continue reading When we age…

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Just by the Countryside

Just by the countryside… Where only fields of green stay And where the mud mix with the clay Live the blue Clouds that smiled always And everything  here had something to say The trees tower over the fine little huts, Where the green forest sit upon the hills, With her inhabitants living with a firm… Continue reading Just by the Countryside

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The Shepherds Tale, another

Night approached silently again And to the shepherd it was time to retire A time of his loneliness, a time of his daydreaming The Night  was the shepherds only companion She brought with her a galaxy and some fresh air And a bouquet of country music from the other locals When the shepherd laid down,… Continue reading The Shepherds Tale, another

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Hospitality as Love

Genesis 18.2 The world can only stand when we learn to love The culture and philosophy of live and let live Teaches us to live while letting others live Let the Eagle perch, let also the Kite perch None should forbid the other from perching The love we give returns to us in some other… Continue reading Hospitality as Love

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Note: Nature as an African

  Mother Nature is an African. I say this because I have seen why. Africa is unrivaled in wildlife species and variety. I have had an Ostrich tower over me back then in Ondo state of Nigeria and I have met the Hyena which could have passed for a demon with her red eyes and… Continue reading Note: Nature as an African

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A muse: Heavy evening rain

  And now it rains with thunder The hand of Cold had come for her asunder, Come let us see the rains fall by the window Let us dance in the rain and have fun while we can Surely, the heavy rain has come to sow And her many seeds are spread across the land… Continue reading A muse: Heavy evening rain

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Smile for me African child

Smile for me beautiful child Show me your joyful face Let me see your beautiful smile Come now, do not be shy Let me see your joy Let me see the little dimple And the lines of your face As they straighten up for a smile! Smile for me beautiful African child Do not mind… Continue reading Smile for me African child

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The Storm is Over

Continue in prayers -Colossians 4.2 Never lose hope when you see the storm come Never say never before before the day breaks For what seems to be the end might just be the start Of something fresh,  new and beautiful And after the cold winter comes the warm summer The clouds might leave the day… Continue reading The Storm is Over

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It’s World Teacher Day

Teachers create a civilization through their every day activities. Now by teachers I mean everybody who give out knowledge to others in any way or any form, not just the school teachers. I know someone out there will agree with me that teachers are awesome. I might not write a loving poetry to tell you… Continue reading It’s World Teacher Day

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African desire

My land is green Africa, my Africa Together we win, My humble desire   Your arms are long like the bamboo weed The smoothness of the riverside air sooth it The hornet, the weavers all spread your seed And with joy, we come to you to inherit   Your moments are fun, beautiful, we are… Continue reading African desire

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Loves Silhouette

The evening came shyly The sun set before us And the end of the world We see fall below the hilltop The sweet airs wind traverse about They travel with grace Flirting with our hairs and cloth Now it is darker but can you see me? It is the sun set And she smile up… Continue reading Loves Silhouette

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Poetale: The Musk Rat

Prologue: There was this tale my old granny told the children She will always say “Listen my children, listen.” And we; little, full of curiosity will look up patiently Then it was usual before each tale to play about In the strong moon light which swept the garden In between the plays, we wrestled and… Continue reading Poetale: The Musk Rat

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Beauty and Beautiful

Ecstacy is beauty It is a feeling formed to feel A scent, a wish, a moment A flower, a dinner, a kiss maybe Which undescribable, won’t stay For it is just a sweet mirage Like a fine deer on the forest, In the quiet hunting season The deer ate thru yellow hay And when the… Continue reading Beauty and Beautiful

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Let the World Sing…

Let the world fall before Thee, The One who rule the Earth and the Sea And drags the wind like as a child will his toy The plants You let germinate on the grey soil With Your great hand You made man in Your image And yet You made the fullness of the Earth man’s… Continue reading Let the World Sing…

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Poetale: Three Memories

Okay I recall vividly when I was younger and I wore skirts cos I forgot to get some trousers for the long holidays and I traveled to place where I couldnt get trousers or shorts. Then I played with other kids wearing skirts like the Scottish, just that I had no pipe to play. I… Continue reading Poetale: Three Memories

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The Zoo

Sunny, lazy Sometimes muddy Full of weary trees Tree stumps And overlapping tree branches The green and brown mix, Part of the enclosures. Quiet in the noon In the heat of the day And the hustle of survival The streams are green with mold And the pathways are sticky with mud But the fun of… Continue reading The Zoo

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The Nomad

As the twilight came I took a walk for some air And down the roadside I went There stood a young man Bearded heavily like myself Throwing corn seeds into his mouth And grinding them with such relish That his brown teeth showed in the process He stood by our fence And I decided to… Continue reading The Nomad

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Breezy Evening

This evening is quite exceptional No stars, no fireflies, no light No torch, just a quiet darkness And a sweet surge of sweet wind The clouds are dark and light And upon it the lightning flash Now and then, sparks of white Stray through the firmaments Raindrops fall slowly, quietly She seem to travel light… Continue reading Breezy Evening

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The song of a Methodist

Our job is to praise You Bring down Your glory The trees bow before You Your works are Beauty The wind is Your messenger The clouds like a fog to You Nothing compares to Your power Nothing is greater than You Little is the whole Universe to You Decorated with fine firmaments You make the… Continue reading The song of a Methodist

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The Commonwealth Annual Short Story Competition 2017

The Commonwealth Annual Short Story Competition call for submissions. We’re delighted to let you know that the 2017 Commonwealth Short Story Prize is now open for entries. The closing date is 1 November 2016. The prize is for the best piece of unpublished short fiction (2,000-5,000 words) in English; regional winners receive £2,500 and the… Continue reading The Commonwealth Annual Short Story Competition 2017

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Gather now… Come closer
Warm your hands, sit near the fire
It is a cold evening, is it?
Now pay attention to this poetale
I hope it helps warm you up
And trust it prepares you for a fine sleep

 

Once upon a time
In a land far away
Across seven rivers
And seven hills
Lived a clan of animals
Then there was no strife
No envy, no rivalry
Between the clan of animals
For then the strife held not
Cause there was no king
No ruler, no master of any sort
But animals who lived freely
Tilled their land as they wished
When they wanted to and so on
Then some stronger animals
Felt they could bully others
So many animals started trespassing
Some took others lands
Some marched on others crops
And some hijacked others wives
So, Anarchy decided to spread
Her blanket of no good
Upon the animal clan
Until the Cricket suggested
That all head homes should meet
To resolve this…

So during the meeting
Everybody sat down quietly
And waited for someone to talk
Mumblings filled the arena
Guilt of crimes wont let anyone speak
The mosquitoes, carefree buzzed aloud
‘Wait!’ the Cricket yelled
‘I greet you all’ he began politely
‘The way to solve this menace
Is to appoint a King who will rule us
Someone who will bring justice
And fairness to both big and small’
‘Nice idea’, his relatives called after him
‘Now I am the brain of the meeting
I should be allowed to nominate
My humble self as the King of the clan!’
‘What? Why?’ an angry Elephant trumpeted
‘You little thing, so minute, so irrelevant!
How dare you even think of that
When someone like me is here?
I should be the King undisputed!’
‘You all must be joking!’ laughed the Giraffe
‘How can you become the King
When you are just round like football
And can’t even move a leg higher?
No no no, it just doesn’t fit you
Well, take a look at me and my length
I interact with the moon
And when angry I ate her half!
I should be the King instead!’
The whole clan went dead with silence
They thought the Elephant would retaliate
So they waited for the worst to happen
But nothing happened…
‘Let me be the King’ the ape called out
‘None of you is so capable of tree climbing
And infact I can swing and dance up the skies
You don’t know this feeling of tree dwelling
The skies are my playground… Can’t you see?’
‘Talking about playground, you are out of it!’
The Eagle whined…
‘I live in mountain peaks
Where none of you can reach
Or dare reach and I am the master
Master of the blue clouds and wind
Make me your king!’
‘Talking about flying you are not alone in it’
A mosquito stood to talk
‘How many of you can sing in a human ear
And make him slap himself madly?’
‘No way, who speaks now?’ the Lion growled
‘The kingship belongs to I and the pride
The pride is strong and courageous
And can defend and take care of the clan
My roars frighten our enemies
My claws are fine killing machines!’
‘No sir, was it not one of your pride members
That slaughtered an innocent sheep the other day?
We can’t let you be our King’
Someone yelled from the crowd
‘So what do we do right now?’
Let us then nominate from those
Who showed interest in the position’
An elderly Parrot suggested
‘Please everyone should point at their candidate’
To the crowds surprise
Everyone pointed to their kith
The Giraffes to the Giraffes
The Apes to their kind
The Pride to the Lions
And so on…

And when no head way was made
Everyone nominated himself for Kingship
Since everyone was to be the King
They all left fighting and arguing
And so is the animal clan
In much confusion till this very day!

Flirty
Breezy wind of the south
Woo my candle light
Which danced like a mad man
She paint the wall
With the silhoutte of the light
Drawing pictures of many objects
Showing a magnified view of shapes
Scary and gigantic. Titanic!
The curtains are thrown up
At each blast from the wind
And her underwears revealed
The wind surged forward
Re-echoing the song of the Pine
Driving hard upon the street poles
And pulling the rooftops viciously
Making crazy men of the beer inn yell

And just outside, by the window
Dogs raced home to their forts
Even the trees knew some danger
The wind danced about the street road
Riding on newspapers and cellophane,
On every stray thing upon the Earth
She roamed about the street
Like a little hurricane
Upon the quiet fields of farms
And no one dared stand before her!

The grip of the quiet night,
Clouds which won’t rain
The firmaments when darkened
And the appearance of the wind
Upon which asunder came with
The dirt that flew into eyes
The songs of the Whistling Pine
And the disturbed roof tops
All tell this tale tonight…

A tale I love to write about

1.
”Do you know why people miss it a lot?
We love things and not people
We love money and not someone
We love machines and gadgets
And will give those our time and concern
While the world dies from human pain and poverty
The world dies from neglect and carelessness
So much machines are made, so much robots built
Nothing compares to that human besides you, nothing
Sicknesses are caused by man’s activities on Earth
Some stay to invent crisis and wars and disasters
I wonder what class of animals or plants they are!
Sometimes I reason why we are made human and not mangoes
Or crawfish or fireflies that prowl the pitch dark night
Human beings are laboratory rats for science
And the same scientists are human beings like me
What a shame! What a blunder! What an atrocity!

Can’t you see why wars are being fought?
Weapons got to be sold, business needs to be alive
And by the way, why do we settle disputes with wars?
Why not come let’s arm wrestle or box in the rings?
Bring your best man, let my nation bring our best man
We need no general chaos or destruction or death
We need to prove we are stronger with something else
Something other than a gun or missiles or bombs

Nations take other peoples lands and governments
Have you forgotten the reason why we are a world
Is the diversity and joy of living as different people
With several ideas, stories, faces, colors and faith?
What happens if all these vanishes into thin air
And everyone starts to think like a one headed hydra?
There would be no life if I have to change myself to be you
Or if you have to change yourself to be me
Or if we are forced against our will to live a certain type of life
Nothing forthcoming, nothing sensible,
Just a world of living zombies marching around
With a conscience infected by an evil virus

And gold and oil is worth more love than a dying child
The jewels on our necks are made from a childs toil
Down the illegal mines were modern slavery lurks
Men and women, children are turked away, working
Under the whip of the master, one with a dead conscience
Young women and girls are earmarked for prostitution
For Gods sake, we are not dogs, we are not chicken
How dare someone, anyone treat another as such?

Somewhere in the world someone dies for lack of food
People lack potable water and clinical concerns
Yet automobiles are fed with gas made from cassava
And science is researching food for future energy needs
The world has so much potentials, so much food, much wealth
But much more pain and agony
Where is the human side of men?

There is many who lost hope in what the world can offer
They chose to become a foe to the world of men
They turn to criminals, rapists, killers, terrorists
More is funneling towards that lane of pain and anger
All caused by human lack of love for one another

Who created money? Sure God didn’t
But why is money a god right now?
That no one can perfectly say
For even so, money can’t buy happiness or longlife
So why is gold valued than a mans life on Earth?
Will it be we got it all wrong somewhere?
Money is man’s undoing and man’s greatest weakness

2.
The horses march with their heads
Nodding to the beats of the drum
And the strings of the bass guitar
They do their masters bid…
They are subjects of whip and burden
Yet they love their masters and do their will

The mother endure pains and harm to her body
She produces another life which grows to disobey her
Through her scars and pains she looks back at time
No one is to understand what went wrong
The silence between the pair greatly unfathomable
Yet from the angle of safety all was deemed well”

I walk away muttering to myself
”But note that love makes the world go round”

And today I chose to be human first

Morning is breaking,
So is the sun upon the horizon
On a day many will till
And many will waste still
The clouds grow and spread
A blue apparition they made
With scupltures on the wind
And strange painting on the cloud
The waking day beckons to all
To everyone to work…

Arise when it is morning
Arise and shine…

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Commentary.
Procrastination is the mother of delayed destinies. Most times we seek to ‘relax’ a little more, without understanding the consequence. In the morning, the sun wakes and she does so, so we could wake with her. Time lost can’t be replaced. Time runs fast and when we can we should try to keep up with her pace. Is it not said, time is money? A second is worth billions to some people, worth millions and thousands to others and worth nothing to others. Wake up when it is morning and do some work, do some more painting, more drawing, culture your flowers more, check your dance steps or songs lyrics, write another chapter, cook another recipe… Do anything, anything but procrastination. If you work for yourself or from home… A little more effort will be helpful. Start the idea you have been grooming, the sun is waking for you. Is it not a beautiful morning from Africa? So arise and shine and have for yourself a nice day!

‘The land is hungry, so are my words…
Let’s make it rain… Let’s flood the dry earth and let the ink flow again!’

Now I seek to hear the sound of the rain fall
Yes let it rumble through the clouds
Like the stomach of a child about to purge
The vegetations here attest to the growing might
The stars are gone, gone out of the human sight
But this strange wind is not ordinary, it is the rain!

And when it rain, let it flood the drought lands
Let it fill everybodies pots, drums and calabashes
Let it water every sick vegetable all over the globe
Let it feed the cattle and wildlife everywhere on Earth
Let it fall and refresh the dying world
And let some rain dampen the ground on which we walk
In the morning we shall see a new seed sprout!

The tent doors shake with the coming wind
Here comes the might of the heavy rain herself
She twist and turns, hovers and manoevres, up and down
The great emissary of this rain; the wind plays about

Let me feel the smooth airs that come with it
Let me feel the wingless surge of the breeze
Let me feel the sweet whisper and kiss of mother Nature
Let the rooftop play me a fanciful drum of many beats
As my eyes close quietly, let a heavy rain fall!

Now I make the rain fall, wait and listen to it!

Commentary.

In Africa and some other parts of the globe, men are known to make rain fall. It is a craft which some have used for selfish reasons or for the general good of the clan.

This is purely imagined piece.

She sprawled across the breadth of the land. She lay humbly
Like someone listening to the Ocarina of time
Wasting away to carefree and careless governments
Losing the charm it was once known for
And settling for lesser things and lesser people

Ogbor hills abbatoirs lay with blood of sheep, pigs and cattle
The river of the Waterside wash strange men’s nakedness
Cow dung, pig leftover feasts and human wastes
Graciously find their way into the fast flowing rivers

Ogbor hill lives peacefully, she co-exists well with others;
The mechanic, the merchandisers, the retail marketers
The manufacturers, industrialists and fabricators
The wood smith, the metal smith and the vulcanizer
The educators, the transporters and the market!

In the grim darkness of the nights
Came tiny illuminations from thousands of light bulbs
From the surrounding hills and falls of shanties and slums
Came noises of man, machine and animals
Each hussling to stay alive, each fighting to survive
Some weak, some low, some high and some strong

The Waterside, the gateway to the hills stay cool
Warming the over heating causes of the industries
And man and his numerous mad machines
Driving nature mad with unrelented determination

Roads scatter, tarred, untarred, patched, degraded
Yet men thrived and moved about their business
Some build on the small roads, some on the drainages
The great quietness of the day only comes at night
This humble city is full of queer whims and caprices

Up the hill lives another town with her own lifestyle
The tentacles of this little city spread like the war ants
Sprawling across the vales and the hills, consuming everywhere
The team of strange people conquer the lands
Spoiling, tilling, living, farming, working, building
A nice example of environmental degradation
A fine instance of industrial waste and global warming

The little town serve as a breathing space
Safe from the much hustle bustle of Enyimba city
Imagine awakening those moribund factories
Imagine more industrial and human waste
Imagine living in a city of wealth but a plenipotentiary of waste

Commentary.
Ogbor hill is a town, part of Aba in Abia state of Nigeria. It is known for her enterprise, people and industries. Many schools, crafts, factories, religious bodies, governmental agencies, private concerns and residencies call here home. I was born and brought up here. The common language if not the corrupted English is the Igbo language of the Eastern Nigeria.

Now here goes the first rain and wind storm of September…

And it came like a quarel
Throwing punches
Holding each others throat and
Blowing thru their fury noses

On their path, they throw fine sand around
Pulling the weak rooftops about
Now the clouds blacken with each provocation
The rain beat down like pellets
Raising a unique smell of dry clay
The wind stayed for a while
Rehearsing or renewing her strength
Or has she lost the battle yet?